They Died for a Million Bucks
by redwallanderson
Summary: Two men in heavy body armor and assault rifles attempt to rob a bank.


AUTHOR'S NOTE**: This is based on and dedicated to the real-life North Hollywood shootout. In the real shootout, no one died except the robbers, but in my story . . . Yeah.**

The bank manager stood there trembling, as one of the two body-armored and heavily-armed gunmen aimed an assault rifle into his face and shouted angrily, demanding to 'know where the money was'. Trying not to sound sarcastic, the manager pointed out that the money was obviously in the safe. He got hit in the face with a rifle butt in response, and then the other gunman ordered the manager to unlock the safe, gesturing with the gun impatiently.With blood streaming from his busted nose, the bank manager hurried to obey.

He fumbled with the keypad that unlocked the safe and a shot slammed behind him as the gunman fired his rifle into the ceiling, and the manager yelped and typed the password in with trembling fingers and the safe unlocked. He turned to the gunmen. "We've only got 1,000,000 in right now . . . "

One gunman looked at the other and gritted his teeth behind the ski mask he wore. "Hold it, asshole! We were informed that there was at least thirty million dollars here, you cockbreath!"

The manager shrugged, wiping at his bleeding nose. "I'm sorry, but that's all I've got!"

The other gunman, the one that hadn't spoken, shrugged and then his assault rifle was roaring and bucking in his hand as he put six high-caliber AR-15 rounds into the bank manager's chest, killing him instantly. He looked at his partner and then at the money. "We got to get moving, man. Now!"

"Good point," his partner replied, and they hurriedly loaded the money into a bag and went to the front door of the bank, and stepped out. They blinked in surprise as they saw five cop cars parked outside with ten cops crouched behind them, and knew there was more cops on the way. Then the tougher-looking gunman raised his carbine and fired, and the other one dropped the bag of money and did the same. A series of armor-piercing bullet holes traced through the cop cars and the police officers yelped in shock, and tried to return fire, knowing that their cover was being pierced by the bullets and they were pretty much sitting ducks.

The cops kept firing, but the clothing of the suspects was overlaid with body armor and the cop's 9mm bullets and buckshot didn't penetrate at all. Sure, they bruised the robbers but they didn't kill them or seriously injure them at all. The cops were wearing standard body armor as well, but the robbers had armor-piercing bullets. It was a massacre. One of the cops grunted as he was shot square in the chest by a bullet that had gone through his car like jelly, and he crumpled brokenly. One of his comrades crouch-ran towards him to see if he was okay, but was hit right between the eyes and thrown sideways from the force of the shot. The other cops tried to retreat, still firing at the robbers, but one took a bullet in the right leg and another was shot in the back and instantly killed.

In thirty seconds, ten trained police officers had been reduced to one wounded man, one dying man, two dead men, and six scared men cowering behind trees and parked cars. Backup was on the way, but it probably wouldn't be here soon enough. The gunmen could just drive away right then, and they would have escaped. But they didn't. They still stood there, laughing and taunting the cops and firing dozens of rounds. Meanwhile, backup got closer and closer. Including the local SWAT unit, which carried assault rifles that would make them a match for the gunmen... And then, one of the scared cops popped up from behind one of the bullet-riddled parked cars and fired off a blast from his shotgun and one of the gunmen stumbled and felt the shock of the slug passing through his body armor (which was weakened on the right side somehow) and into his ribs.

He angrily raised the military-style assualt rifle and fired off a long, rattling burst and another cop screamed as he was cut almost in half by the bullets. Rounds cracked low overhead and the other officers huddled down and hoped backup would arrive soon. But something had changed. The gunmen had now realized that the cops could hurt them, and they headed for the white sedan parked to their right by the front doors. That was their getaway car.

The gunman who had been hit by the slug was obviously having trouble. He leaned against the hood of the sedan and gasped for breath. Not only did the bullet wound hurt, but the mid-day heat was burning down and that body armor wasn't the most comfortable thing to wear in summer. He was sweating like a dog, and so was his partner, who was attempting to get the sedan to start as bullets smashed through the windows of the car from the cops still trying to bravely stop the gunmen. Finally, he started the engine and beckoned to his partner to get in.

But his partner shook his head. "Fuck off. Get outta here . . . "The other man grunted. "Come on, we have to get the fuck outta here. The other cops are coming really fuckin' soon. If you stay here, you won't get out alive. Come on, man. You've got a wife and a kid. So do I. We can't afford to die here."His partner let out a long wheezing laugh, pain from the gunshot wound showing in his eyes, the only part of his face visible through the skimask. "You're scared?" He shook his head in apparent disgust and walked away from the sedan, continuing trading bullets with the cops as finally the backup arrived: seven more cop cars, containing fourteen more police officers.

His partner drove the sedan slowly along beside his partner. "Have you lost your mind? We spent a long time planning this fucking thing, man. Let's at least try to get away!" The windshield exploded from a near miss and the gunman shook his head. "Fuck you, Gary. You're a dead man." He stepped on the gas and the sedan roared out onto the street as fast as it could, with the tires shot out by police bullets already.

'Gary' sent a long chattering burst from his gun all around the crowd of cop cars parked in every direction and then switched out clips for the rifle. He walked out on the street, but the sedan and his partner had already drove out of sight. He walked right past one of the cop cars, and pumped five shots directly through the windshield, and the cop hiding inside was killed immediately. Gary cackled and walked on, limping slightly now because two more bullets had already penetrated his body armor. But that one man, armed to the teeth, was holding off the police. He glanced longingly back toward the money bag lying in front of the bank and then continued down the sidewalk away from the scene of the crime, cops following as best they could, hiding behind fences and parked cars and trading fire with the shooter in a running gunfight.

Gary grunted as he was shot through the hip and he stumbled. Three shots smacked into his chest. These didn't penetrate, but they nearly knocked him on his back and he dropped the AR-15. He didn't seem to have the strength to lean down and pick it up, so he drew his final weapon: a 9mm Beretta pistol. The cops moved in for the kill, because now it was even. Pistol against pistol, 9mm rounds against 9mm rounds. It was going well for about three minutes until a bullet tore a huge chunk out of Gary's leg and he stumbled again and fell to one knee. He yelled curses defiantly at the cops, and then . . . He turned the pistol on himself and fired. Gary Gustavson died of a self-inflicted wound to the chin, and the cops knew that there was one shooter left. And he was mobile . . .

The other gunman, Edward, was driving the white sedan down the street about as fast as it would go on flat tires. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his body armor as he drove. At least five of the ninety bullets fired at him had penetrated the armor, all in the chest area and he was feeling a little faint and knew he was bleeding badly inside the armor. He had to ditch this slow fuckin' car, get a better one, and then get to a hospital or out of the country or something, and get medical care. He saw a pickup truck approaching down the street and grinned painfully, raising his AR-15 and firing directly through his own windshield toward the oncoming truck. The driver took the keys and fled in panic. Edward drove the white sedan up beside the pickup truck and began to transfer his weapons from the sedan to the truck, taking valuable time.

He finally got inside the truck himself and tried to start it but then he saw that the driver had taken the keys. He cursed and grabbed his AR-15 up to start transferring it back to the sedan, and then saw the police car full of heavily armored SWAT officers pull up aggressively about five feet away. He dived out of the open door of the pickup truck as bullets started flying, firing as he went, and took cover behind the front of the sedan, firing repeatedly towards the SWAT officers, whose car was parked on the other side of the truck. An intense gunfight began.

Finally, the gunfight ended as one ingenious SWAT officer laid down under the cop car, looking under the truck and under the sedan and aiming his AR-15, firing a burst under three vehicles and Edward screamed as he was shot repeatedly in the knees and he crumpled. He tried to continue shooting, but gave up a few seconds later and the cops cautiously approached. Edward was real angry that he had lost and was cursing the cops but they kicked his weapons away and handcuffed him.

Ambulance services requested to come to give Edward medical attention but the cops refused, and said it was still a hot zone. The ambulance services asked why, and the cops lied and told them that they suspected a third shooter was at large. Edward was not given medical attention that could have saved his life, and he bled to death forty minutes later, still laying handcuffed in the street, waiting for medical care.The shootout was over.


End file.
